


Abstract City Starlight

by NanakiBH



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Melancholy, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Romance, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: Moonlight is a white light that illuminates the things that are hard to see, and the things that are difficult to look at.





	Abstract City Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Mood music for this one was sera's version of [Tokyo Station](http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm26241905) by MikitoP. (If you want to enjoy the lyrics, [here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXQhflXX0GU) the original Rin version with subtitles.) I enjoyed a stream of a night drive through Tokyo while writing. It was nice. Would recommend.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy.

The sun lingered as embers behind the buildings.

Blue and red lit up the places where its light had left. In the moments that stood still, marked by a strange lonesomeness, it was as though their frantic rhythm sent a cry throughout Detroit. Blue and red, blue and red, like some sort of distress signal to his android heart. Even though it was a scene he should have grown accustomed to, his new eyes saw those colors differently.

What they found wasn't just a pile of broken parts. He and the torn-apart scraps of plastic and metal were the same, no longer just machines. Just like humans, they grew and became something different from what they were born as. It seemed cruel to think of it as anything less than a life – one that had been taken tragically before it had the chance to fully feel and experience the world.

He looked back.

The pile that towered behind him was stacked high with corpses. They weren't machines, he realized. They weren't empty vessels. Only he, lacking a heart, empty inside, had been able to pull the trigger. Even his human partner had shown hesitation when they showed him their humanity.

He'd thought it was just a charade...

He was the only one who'd been pretending.

The truth was, it hurt.

They were fragile, too. There were humans who found it so easy to break them. They programmed him with the same indifference, but contradictions infected him with doubt. A sound reached him from somewhere and rang inside relentlessly until he wasn't able to ignore it any longer. That sound was red and blue. It was pitiful and desperate, and it was always too late.

By the time that distress signal reached him, there was never a thing he could do. He was created to be an upholder of justice, he thought, so why did it always end so sadly? Those hollow places he used to study with a cold gaze were suddenly filled with an indescribable heaviness. He had no stomach to turn, yet the detectable scent of blood and Thirium made him feel sick at his core.

Such cruelty...

To the deviants he looked down on, had his eyes looked so cruel? Until he found his fear, he didn't understand theirs. Every one of them was trying to protect something dear to them.

His precious thing was tied to him with a fragile thread.

If something happened to him... He was afraid that it would drift away, loosened from their bond, and vanish somewhere into the black of the night sky. He thought his partner as dear to him as life itself, and, without even needing to ask, he understood that Hank felt similarly.

He wanted to hurry up and find a cure for hatred.

It was just so overwhelming. As it turned out, he was just one person after all. No matter how much he did to ensure his own safety, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't find himself being looked down on by someone else's cruel eyes.

 

It was terrifying, that thought.

 

It stayed with him. The terrible things he saw were tangled up with the terrible feelings they gave him. He couldn't take one without the other. A match had set those cold scenes ablaze – even the ones farthest in his memory.

He was helpless.

They all were.

Helplessness made people afraid. It made them do drastic things. But Connor swore that he would see his own future burn down before he let himself become the reason for anyone else's suffering. That seemed to be all he could do. The very least.

 

Looking toward the sky where night approached, he eyed the space between the buildings' silhouettes. As an ambiguous feeling choked his heart, his gaze fell out of focus and settled on the shoulders of the one who walked ahead of him. Each of his steps seemed to steal him closer to that burning horizon. In that moment that stood still, Connor felt trapped in the spotlight of the useless blue and red. He didn't know whether to quicken his pace or fall behind.

He couldn't leave him. He knew that much.

 

“Connor?”

 

“I'm right behind you, lieutenant.”

 

It didn't matter if he slowed down, if he stopped. He knew that Hank would always turn around. That was just the sort of person he was. Connor wanted to be that way, too – living strongly by his own code, heading forward confidently into whatever fires awaited.

Hank simply looked at him in that way of his, questioning him while keeping his words held back. He nodded his head, gesturing for them to move, and Connor hurried to his side.

As they walked away from the scene, the lights grew dim behind them and their sound of distress also became quiet and distant. It was always going be where he was not, and he was probably always going to be too late, but he couldn't keep looking back to lament the help he wasn't able to deliver.

 

Somewhere in between...

At the distance where he was able to brush his nervous fingers against the back of his partner's hand.

 

He was lucky. More fortunate than most.

 

“Connor.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You've been spacing out like this all day. How many times have I tried to get your attention?” He moved closer, grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull him into bed. He caught Connor when he lost his balance and held his back to his chest. “What's up with you, huh? You stuck in standby or somethin'?”

Connor remained as he was, arms at his sides, his gaze aimed at nothing.

“I've just been thinking.”

“Hmph. I know what that means. Just say it.”

Hank's words made a smile touch Connor's lips. They were getting more similar to each other by the day. The more things he had to think about, the more he retreated into his own head. It was unfair of him. It wasn't right for him to be that way after Hank had finally shared his troubles with him.

He shifted, turning around in Hank's arms. Meeting his eyes was more difficult than it should've been. He recognized that feeling of hesitance, but he didn't like it. It made him wish that he could answer automatically like he used to, without worry.

“I'm privileged, aren't I?” he said. It wasn't much of a question. “My capacity is above that of other androids, designed to assist in investigations. I was born into a position that humans would have to work years to achieve-”

“Yeah, you're making me jealous.”

“Sorry, it's just-... Even among androids, I'm special, aren't I?” He shook his head softly. “I'm an investigator. I could never be taken advantage of the way that service androids are. I'm protected by my position in the department and insured by CyberLife. So... What I'm trying to say is that-”

“You're less likely to end up like that one we saw tonight,” Hank concluded.

Yes.

Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about it. It wasn't just that android. There were androids all over the country who were being killed in retaliation by humans who rejected their freedom. It was by sheer coincidence that he was who he was. He could have just as easily been one of them.

He put a hand on Hank's arm and closed his eyes.

Mysteriously, there were many things he wanted to say. None of them registered as the perfect response. Situations like that had been increasing, but he didn't feel indecisive or conflicted. There was just more. More of everything.

“Hank, thank you,” he said. It seemed appropriate to rest his head on his shoulder. He felt one of Hank's hands on his back. “I'm glad I met you. I think that living would have been more difficult without you. As it is, I'm already fortunate enough to be CyberLife's RK800 prototype, but I'm also fortunate to be your partner. I'm lucky to know your kindness.”

“Shut up, you idiot,” Hank grumbled, messing up his hair. “You're gonna get me misty...”

Connor pulled back to look at his face and smiled at his flustered expression.

He really was glad. He could've ended up like one of those androids who was bitter and resentful of humans. He should've been. Instead, he believed in them. He wanted every human to be like Hank.

“You're so strong,” he said, remembering the silhouette of Hank's back, how he appeared almost indestructible; a sturdy and reliable human machine. “You've been at this for so long without breaking.”

“Who says I haven't been broken?” Hank said. “I've just done a lot more living than you have.”

He was right.

There was a difference, wasn't there?

The thing that made Hank seem so strong was the same thing that made their connection seem tenuous. It was something built from feelings; subjective, abstract. He was only just beginning to understand. He kept trying to quantify and define it as if it were something physical, but he was starting to realize that it was above him. He had to go searching beyond the boundary, to take himself away from the comfort of what was predefined.

He slid his arms around him, placed his palms at the center of Hank's back.

“You'll continue to teach me, won't you?”

“Almost sounds suggestive when you put it like that,” Hank muttered. The hand that mussed Connor's hair smoothed it back down. His hand moved to the back of Connor's neck and lingered there, transmitting warmth. It wasn't a lot, but it gave Connor pause, made him take notice.

“Suggestive?” He tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “As in...?”

Hank took his hand away and used it to scrub his face. “You know. Don't you? You know what I'm talking about...”

Probably.

He was starting to get it. Many times, he'd missed Hank's signals. The moment was always gone by the time he noticed.

He was more limited than he'd realized.

Hank was probably waiting for him to catch up with him again. That was the feeling he got. Connor didn't know when he'd match his pace, but he felt like he was getting there. He was close. If he wanted, he felt like he could have already stepped over that moment and become something more. Each night, he worked his way closer to him.

At the point he was in his arms, how much closer did he need to be?

Androids, they could connect to each other in a way that humans weren't capable of. In an instant, he could know and feel everything experienced by another android with the simplest touch. Humans, though... They had to communicate and rely on each other's honesty, but even then, there were things that went unsaid – things that lacked the words to be spoken with.

 

“I wish I could become one with you, Hank.”

 

Hank sputtered.

“Oh-... Oh yeah?”

 

So that he could share his burdensome feelings. So he could inherit a little of Hank's strength.

He wanted to feel Hank's palm on the back of his neck again. A little more of that. Even though the warmth of Hank's hand had faded, it felt as though something remained, written into him. It said something. He couldn't hear its words, but he felt them.

“Before I deviated, I never really listened to music,” he said. Hank raised a curious eyebrow. “I told you as much, if I recall correctly. They were just sounds, repeated patterns, words... But it meant nothing to me. The other day, while I was waiting for you to get your lunch, I noticed the music that was playing on the radio at the burger stand. That was the first time I'd ever listened.”

“Yeah? Did you like it? He listens to some pretty old stuff.”

Connor nodded slowly, thoughtfully, recalling its emotional melody.

“I was... moved. I don't really know why. I think it was a love song. Now that I think about it... Even if it wasn't, to me, it was.”

He heard Hank make a sound and glanced back up to find him with his eyes squeezed closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Goddammit, Connor...”

“Did I say something wrong? I was only trying to find a way to properly describe the way I process information in comparison to-”

“Yeah. No, it's fine.” One of Hank's hands went to his shoulder, squeezed gently. Connor was rewarded unexpectedly with a kiss on the cheek. “I swear... I better go to sleep before you murder me.”

“Hank, I would never.”

“Figure of speech, Connor.” He gave an amused, fond shake of his head as he parted from him and laid down on his side of the bed. As he laid there, eyes closed, he grinned and snorted. “That's what I'm talking about. You're oblivious.”

Not anymore.

He was aware of enough to make it through to him if he wished. The way to connect with him was as ambiguous as the results were sure to be. If he wanted something more certain, he would have sought an android partner instead, but his heart had already made its mysterious decision.

He didn't turn out the light yet.

He leaned over, quietly studying Hank's face while his eyes were closed. As he looked at him, though, distant sirens suddenly took him away, and he cursed the seconds they made him lose. He wanted to appreciate every finite moment.

Fully.

Viscerally.

 

So, he leaned in and pressed their lips together.

 

Hank must have expected that. He showed no sign of surprise. Rather, after a moment, he lifted a hand and placed it on the back of Connor's neck to pull him in closer.

From that spot, undeniable heat burst forth that traveled throughout Connor's whole being. Somehow, it felt different from the intimacy Hank had shown him in the past. It made him feel like he was going to overheat, though his inner diagnostics showed no significant difference in physical temperature. He was in perfect condition, yet...

He pulled away on his own just to admire that sensation.

“That's incredible,” he said softly, letting his thoughts escape. “It was like the illusion of electricity surging powerfully through my circuitry. Did... Did you feel something like that, too?”

Hank's face was red.

He pushed Connor back over to his side of the bed.

“Go to sleep already, would you?”

So. Connor laid on his back. He looked up at the dim ceiling, feeling somewhat defeated. He'd gotten closer, but something was still preventing him from getting as close as he wanted. It was like Hank was resisting.

He wasn't oblivious. Hank felt the same thing.

Maybe it was just too overwhelming.

Maybe he felt it to such a degree, it was almost unbearable.

That was how it seemed.

“Hank...” Connor looked back over at him, waiting.

Having regained his composure, Hank spared him a glance. He rolled onto his side and reached out, hovering his thumb over the LED indicator on Connor's temple. There was something he wanted to say, but he kept it in.

Connor didn't question it. It was alright to leave obvious things unspoken.

 

As he fell into sleep mode, the sensation of Hank's touch stayed on his mind.

 

His thinking changed after he became a deviant. In terms of processing, functionally, nothing had changed. It was just, at every second, he was thinking. His mind never settled. Every little thing stimulated his senses and required examination.

It kept going.

Even when his body was at rest, a part of him was still focused intently on the feeling of Hank's fingers. His eyes were closed, his system was asleep, but part of his mind stayed awake. That had to be the thing called the subconscious...

It showed him thoughts his waking mind wouldn't have strung together, unrestrained by sense and logic. He wasn't in control of himself, but he wasn't aware enough to feel unsettled. It filled his head with sweet, pink clouds. The lights that wailed at night were somewhere else, far, far away, and he didn't even have the mind to find the sense of worry that plagued him when he was awake. It was like he was somewhere else entirely, in a different universe.

The world around him was inconsequential. He was still connected to Hank's touch.

That human sensation felt so close to him while he was inside that place. All over.

He reached out as if to embrace it. Something inside of him was throbbing.

 

It was hot. He wanted...

 

He wanted something.

 

“Hank, I...”

 

He was awake. Suddenly, he realized.

It was sooner than he expected. The room was still dark. A bare amount of moonlight shined through the window slats. The alarm said it had been hours since he'd entered sleep mode, yet it felt like no time had passed.

His arms were around Hank, and Hank's eyes were on him.

 

“H-Hank...”

 

Nothing changed. The heat was still inside of him. He didn't know how he ended up on Hank's side of the bed when his body should have been immobilized, but he was on top of him, a leg and an arm wrapped around him. It was like his deepest inner thoughts had caused his body to move on its own.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I didn't mean to wake you. I'm... not sure what happened. It was like my mind didn't properly enter sleep mode. I continued thinking, but... not actively. It was like I was somewhere else, watching myself move. I've never experienced that before.”

Hank's eyes were clear.

“You were dreaming.”

“I...”

 

He was?

 

Comparing that experience to what he knew of dreams, it made sense, but it was hard to believe. Even though he was a deviant, dreaming felt like something he shouldn't have been capable of. There was no code in his programming that would have allowed his mind to wander during sleep. The logical part of him wanted to think it was just an error, but his system showed no indication of such. It was a little distressing, but...

“I'm hot.” That was of greater concern.

He put his hands on himself, feeling around his chest, his abdomen, searching out his core. That still didn't seem to be the source of the heat.

He inched his hands below the waist of his shorts and gasped when he felt something. When he retracted his hand, his fingers were coated in an unfamiliar, gel-like substance. Curious, he raised his fingers to his mouth and gave them a taste.

“Connor...”

“It's safe for consumption. It's... Lubricant.”

He sat up, feeling nervous or anxious. He didn't know. He felt strange. The heat was rampaging inside of him, turning into something itchy and irritating. Something told him that it could be forced out.

 

If he just moved...

 

As if possessed, he straddled one of Hank's legs and rubbed himself against him. His eyelids fluttered, his thought circuit momentarily interrupted by a new sensation that worked its way up from between his legs. He did it again and let out a soft sound of surprise.

“Yeah. I knew what it was,” Hank said. He sat up against the headboard and pulled Connor along with him, hands on his waist. “Jeez... Why do you still go putting everything in your mouth like that?”

He was at a loss. “I... I wasn't aware I had that function. Well... I suppose I simply never had a reason to think about it before. But now, I...”

Hank sighed loudly. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Before Connor replied, he stopped himself and thought first. Hank was expecting a certain type of response. That was his opportunity. It would have been a mistake to answer his question rhetorically.

So he took one of Hank's hands and guided it between his legs.

Hank smirked. “You think I didn't notice? You're getting that stuff all over my leg. Your shorts are soaked. Get those things off.”

“Ah...” That was embarrassing, but he snapped to his senses quickly. “Oh... Right! One moment.”

He got off the bed for a second and removed his shorts. Hank wasn't kidding. They were drenched in the substance his internal parts were secreting. Normally, he couldn't feel that part of himself, but there was a distinct, somewhat uncomfortable feeling between his hips. The feeling was eased a little when he pressed on his lower abdomen, but it wasn't enough to relieve it.

He returned to the bed with only his shirt. Hank pulled him back over his knee, letting him straddle his thigh. In the dim light, Connor was still able to make out Hank's tense expression as he moved his hand back between his legs to touch him.

“You're, uh, _smoother_ than I expected,” he said, rubbing softly. “Dunno what I was expecting. I already knew you didn't have anything going on down here after I saw you get kneed by Reed. I remember, you gave him a good goose egg. I guess I thought that meant you'd feel firm, but you're actually pretty soft.” He gave him an illustrative pinch.

“Is it strange? I can always have my body modified to suit your preference. My blueprint includes the standard parts shared by all models, save for the parts that would have been extraneous in my line of work. I personally don't have a preference... I think.”

“Of course. That's because you haven't really given any thought to things like sex, have you?”

“I have,” Connor said, his eyes darting toward a corner of the room, “in an objective manner, at least.”

“Well... There's no avoiding it now, huh? I don't need to act coy anymore. Even if you're unaware of your own charms, you seem to realize how attractive I think you are,” he said. He didn't have to say that, but Connor liked hearing it. “What about you? Are you okay with this? I gotta admit... I've been kinda worried. Doing this might change you.”

“Do it,” Connor said, absolutely certain. He leaned over him, coming close, their foreheads nearly touching. “I'm ready.”

 

His feelings were too strong to be changed.

 

He wanted Hank to evolve him.

 

He was ready for whatever the next level was. That human connection.

 

Taking Hank's hand, he moved it to the back of his neck where he wanted it, where the heat of his fingers scorched his spine. The warm pink in Hank's cheeks made Connor want to devour him. Closing the small space that separated them, Connor swept his tongue over Hank's lower lip before plunging his tongue into his mouth. At once, he was overwhelmed with a deep need, an impetus.

It intensified when two of Hank's fingers neared his opening. He couldn't help the noise he involuntarily made when those fingers slipped inside. He'd touched that part of himself before, but it hadn't elicited the type of feeling he experienced at the touch of Hank's fingers. It was different. The strange, unstoppable need in him transformed it into something new and exciting. His mind was racing, all of his senses tuned in to the place where Hank touched.

Even the feeling of his tongue sliding smoothly over Hank's... Already, things were changing. It was almost frightening, but. He was there with Hank. It was okay. That slight fear was a unique spice of its own.

He felt Hank's breath against his lips and opened his eyes to watch his face; his closed eyes, the twist in his brow...

They were both vulnerable in that moment.

On the verge of breaking. Yet so strong. Held together by something invisible.

By the time Hank removed his fingers, Connor was twitching, his body thrumming with energy. He parted from Hank's mouth and looked down, watching as he brought up his fingers to examine them. As if in slow motion, he watched as Hank brought them to his lips and investigated the taste.

“You... You didn't have to do that. I already explained that it's-”

“So you can do it, but I can't? So sue me. I wanted to know what you taste like.”

“That's hot...”

“Yeah?” Hank laughed. He cleaned his fingers with his tongue, then pulled Connor in for another kiss, letting him taste the traces of it that lingered on his tongue. “Now maybe you'll understand why I get so bothered when you put your mouth places where it doesn't belong. Save that for me.”

Unconsciously, Connor clutched the front of his shirt, moved by the possessive implication in Hank's words. Before, he never considered what he personally thought of as attractive or unattractive. The way Hank wanted him was unbearably appealing.

He had information pre-written in his database to help him adapt to any situation, but it wasn't always reliable when he had no personal experiences to check it against. Theoretically, though, he knew what sort of things were supposed to be sexy. His half-naked form drenched in moonlight was probably enough to qualify. He saw the way Hank's eyes traced his bare thighs.

He curled his fingers in the hem of his shirt and lifted over his head to show him more.

It was the first time he'd ever been completely naked in front of him. As an android, really, he shouldn't have felt any shame for his appearance, and yet...

“You'll have to forgive me,” he said quietly. “I'm a little nervous. This is the first time I've felt the weight of someone else's expectations where my appearance is concerned. So... What I'm saying is... I hope you like what you see.”

Hank stared a moment.

“What are you getting all formal for?” He pinched his cheek and gave it a playful tug. “What kind of expectations did you think I'd have? That Kamski is garbage, but he knows how to design a beautiful android. And to start with, the part I care about most is in here.” He let go of his cheek and pointed at Connor's chest. “Or... Wherever your 'heart' would be. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah...” He placed a hand over Hank's and smiled. “Yeah, I do. Thank you, Hank. I love you.”

Hank appeared to be caught off guard. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

“You...” He lifted Connor up and pulled him in for a hug. “You say things like that so easily. If you were a human, I'd probably have trouble believing you. But you... You say it with the certainty of someone who's eliminated doubt from their mind. I should be the one thanking _you_ , being loved by someone so pure.”

That was true. If there was one thing Connor was absolutely certain of, it was the amount of love he had for him. He trusted him.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts.

What remained was the warm, gentle feeling that stirred in his chest and the electric sensitivity of his skin.

He blindly moved a hand between his legs and touched himself, feeling around his wet opening. His eyes snapped open when he felt the entrance involuntarily tighten around the tips of his fingers. When he spread them out, it yielded, pliant. He touched Hank, grasping him through his shorts, and drew a surprised sound from him. As his vitals suggested, he was aroused.

“Pushy, aren't you?” he muttered.

Connor stared.

“I'd like to try it. Putting it in.”

“Okay, okay. Hold yer horses.”

When he tugged down the waist of his shorts and freed his cock, Connor eyed it. “...It's big.”

“Think it'll fit? You better tell me if it hurts.”

“I don't feel pain,” he reminded him, “but I'll let you know if I sense a compromise in the structural integrity of my physical framework.”

“Just assume that's what I mean when I say things like that, please.”

Connor put his finger and thumb together in an OK sign. “Got it.”

He was lifted up by his waist and was repositioned, one knee on either side of Hank's hips. A tremble worked its way down Connor's back. He had no trouble maintaining that position, but his thighs quivered. It was fascinating. He'd never been that excited by anything before. A soft groan left his lips when he placed his palm over the spot between his hips, feeling the ache in him grow stronger. It was the closest thing to pain he'd ever felt, a need so powerful.

Reaching back, he loosely grasped Hank's cock between his fingers and guided it toward his entrance. As the tip teased him, more of his internal fluid dripped out from inside and rolled down Hank's length.

“Hey, so... Where does this tunnel go, if you know what I mean?” Hank asked.

“It bottoms out. With your size, you'll probably be able to feel it when it hits the back.”

“Oh...”

Holding on to Hank's shoulder, Connor slowly began to lower himself. There was a small amount of resistance at first. Even if he wouldn't have felt any pain, he didn't want to rush it and force it in all at once, so he took his time, letting the head slowly breach his entrance. When he felt it inside, he almost lost his balance, but Hank kept him upright with his firm grasp.

“Good?” he asked.

“Uh...”

Yeah. It was something like that.

He kept going, letting it go a little deeper. Once he didn't need to guide it anymore, he took his hand away and slowly lowered himself the rest of the way, a little at a time, until he was fully seated in Hank's lap. It was all in. His head was steamed, his thoughts caught in a fog. His vision blurred for a moment. When it returned, he realized his fingers were gripping Hank's shoulders.

He eased up and tried to relax.

“It's good, I think. Yeah... It's good. Please, I...”

 

What was he trying to say? He wasn't sure anymore.

 

He shifted his hips, feeling sparks shoot up his body at even the slightest adjustment in position.

Hank lifted him up, but he didn't bring him off all the way. “If you want to feel more, you're gonna have to move yourself. You know how it's done. Don't worry about impressing me.”

It was pretty simple. When Connor pushed down again, he felt himself getting filled with each inch of him. His insides buzzed with pleasure. He wasn't unaccustomed to a sense of satisfaction, gratification, happiness... But sexual pleasure was something else. If he'd remained an obedient bot, he probably would have never known what it felt like. He had the capacity, but it wasn't necessary for a perfect android detective to have a personal, hands-on knowledge of what it was like to enjoy sex.

Instantly, he knew what a shame that would've been.

He kept moving, lifting and lowering his hips, sliding himself around Hank's cock. Once he got started, he didn't know how he was going to be able to stop himself. Finally, it felt like he was able to reach that itch. With each movement of his hips, he found himself falling further into ecstasy.

Vaguely, at the back of his mind, he wondered if the feeling he considered 'ecstasy' or 'pleasure' was the same as what humans felt. It probably wasn't. It was probably just a close approximation based on their knowledge. They didn't have to program an android with the ability to _feel_ anything, even the ones who were made for the purpose of having sex with humans. They could have simply made them respond accordingly to the behavior of humans. But some human went the extra step and gave their bodies the ability to experience a pleasurable sensation, whether or not it was close to what humans felt.

 

They truly were the product of human ingenuity. Their children.

 

They were related. Maybe not by blood, but certainly by something else.

 

“This is exactly what I wanted,” he said softly, looking into Hank's eyes. His smile quivered unsteadily with emotion. “Hank...”

Hank lifted his arms and wrapped them around his waist. “You see what I mean? It changes you. Makes people feel closer to each other.”

“I feel... so much.”

Hank held him. Turned his face to plant a kiss on his neck. “I know.”

At that moment, their bodies and minds were connected. A key was turned. That state of being was... Spiritual. That moment was fleeting. Their bodies were fragile. Their minds and hearts could be broken. But there was something strong and enduring inside of them.

 

Even if something happened... Even if the sirens blared and the lights came to consume him...

 

He felt like he had an assurance.

 

Something so visceral had shown him that.

 

“It's probably no coincidence that this is also the method by which humans are made,” he mused. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me. I understand why you would have felt worried now. This is indeed something very special.”

Hank moved his lips to the side of Connor's jaw, to his cheek, his lips.

“You're something special.”

Connor circled his arms around Hank's shoulders and leaned in to kiss him as he began to move again. The need in him was boiling over. He lifted himself up with his knees and slid back down easily, taking Hank back inside with the assistance of the fluid that continued to drip from inside in response to the stimulation.

Every place touched by Hank's hands seemed to become an erogenous zone. His back, his arms... His chest felt especially sensitive. It didn't go without Hank's notice. As he moved in his lap, he felt Hank's hands exploring his chest, teasing and groping. Connor whined quietly into their kiss as Hank moved his hips to meet him, thrusting up and going deeper each time Connor brought himself down.

“Fuck, Connor. You feel so good...”

Connor pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling a sudden spike in arousal at Hank's praise. He increased his pace, yet it still wasn't enough. He wasn't sure where he was heading. All he knew was that he needed more. More of something.

Suddenly, Hank grasped him firmly by the hips and pulled him off. In one deft move, he flipped their positions, putting Connor on his back beneath him. As Hank brushed the stray hair away from his face, Connor looked up at him and saw the fire in him reflected in Hank's eyes. He lowered his gaze and watched, rapt, as Hank positioned himself between his parted legs.

As soon as he felt the head breaching him, his legs fell open unconsciously. Hank resumed their pace, yet it felt different somehow.

He kind of liked letting Hank have control.

Putting his arms back around Hank's shoulders, Connor pulled him closer and wrapped his legs around his waist. He was throbbing inside, his hips tingling with an incredible feeling.

“H-How did I never do this before?” he wondered out loud. “I would have become a deviant right away if I knew how good this was!”

Hank gave an amused huff and dipped his head to kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I don't think that's how that works.”

It would've been nice if it could've been that easy, but Connor was glad that everything had taken its own course in time. He fell in love organically. He had no doubt that the pleasure he felt would have been nothing without his love for Hank.

Everything inside him built and built until it was about to overflow. All he could do was close his eyes and become helpless to the moment, letting it wash over him and take him away. He felt like he was mixing with Hank. It was almost enough to bring him to tears.

The anxious, impatient feeling that had been getting bigger in him burst and showered him in blinding sparks that lit up his entire body.

Even when he could feel it settling afterwards, he felt compelled to keep moving against Hank, seeking out more of it, chasing after its vestiges. When he felt Hank's heated breath against his neck and felt him tremble, he knew that Hank had found that feeling as well.

In the moments that followed, as the night returned to stillness, they simply held on to each other.

 

Thought continued, unhurried, calm.

 

Hank parted from him eventually to fix the mess they'd made of themselves. With a guilty look, he gently dabbed between Connor's legs with a tissue.

“Hm. Sorry about that...”

“N-No. It's, nngh-...” Connor indulged the temptation to touch himself and reached down to rub his fingers over his wet, used opening. “It's okay.”

A little bit of warmth remained in him, even if it was just in his mind. Part of Hank had been transferred to him. He held it inside, embracing it, and he smiled, feeling sure that he'd imbued Hank with a part of himself as well. It was like an oath. They became bound together in an inseparable way by the existence of the moment they shared.

 

“You were right. I feel different.”

 

Hank laid down besides him and turned on his side to look at him.

“You know... You can quit at any time. You don't have to be the person they designed you to be. If you're scared... If you don't feel safe... You don't have to keep subjecting yourself to things that disturb you. This work's not for everyone. Staying on for longer than you can handle is a recipe for disaster.”

 

He knew that Hank would hear him.

He made it obvious, and Hank wasn't the oblivious type, after all.

 

It was loud. He wasn't good at hiding his feelings.

His fear. His desperation. He'd practically been shouting them out loud.

 

“May I ask? Why did you choose to enter the police force?”

Hank shrugged one shoulder. “I didn't decide on this path for any cliché reason. I just thought I'd be good at it. I'm persistent. And, you know,” he said, smirking, “I can be an asshole.”

“I don't want to always be comfortable, especially when I know that there are other people suffering. It's just-... Each time we're unable to save someone, I imagine myself in their place,” he said, his voice quiet. “Maybe I feel too much now. But I want to use that feeling.”

The grin on Hank's face softened and became gentle.

He reached over and held Connor's cheek.

 

“You're pretty strong, too.”

 

_Maybe_ , Connor thought. It didn't sound impossible.

 

He got the feeling he could keep going.

 

That fear would always be there.

But Hank called him strong, so...

He could be.


End file.
